I Want You to Love Me
by kidneythieves
Summary: Neal's compromising attraction to Peter gets in the way on their next case. Neal can't decide if the case if more dangerous then his growing feelings for Peter. Slash, sexually graphic. Formally posted as 'Sneaking into a Thief's Apartment'
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This story was previously under the name "Sneaking into a Thief's Apartment"- however I have edited & revised a bit of the story to re-publish it. It's set in season 2-ish. Please enjoy & comment! **

**~luv kidneythieves ;) **

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><p><em>"I want you to love me, love me with your own free will...<em>

_You know I want you to love me baby,_

_Love me & don't get me killed..."_

_~Muddy Waters "Mad Love"_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Sneaking into a Thief's Apartment<strong>

Peter felt kind of guilty doing this. Sneaking into Neal's apartment like some thief. He snorted at the thought, sneaking into a thief's place. He closed the door lightly behind him. He wasn't really sneaking in- he had been invited over for dinner tonight by Neal. Except Peter had been bored at work without his side-kick hovering around to annoy and entertain him. So he decided to cut out early and see what Neal had cooking in the kitchen.

Neal suggested the dinner to celebrate their first, completed year together as a team at the FBI since his release from prison. Peter was instantly excited by the idea when Neal brought it up. He agreed that they needed to pay respects to their successful partnership which could've easily ended in absolute ruins for Peter. And of course, Neal. Yet Peter had worked hard to gain his position at the head of the white collar division in New York and having someone as untrustworthy as Neal Cafferey on his team, felt pretty dangerous. It was a risk that at the time, he wasn't sure was worth it.

Yet he took a leap of faith on Neal and it paid off. They were solving more cases then he ever had on his own and Peter actually felt for the first time in his career at the bureau that he was finally doing something important. And it helped having such an incredible partner like Neal to reinforce his good fortune on a daily basis.

Neal had become part of his life in ways he never imagined. Peter smiled at the memory of Neal gazing at him with those startling blue eyes and handsomely smug smile as they closed yet another case, saving lives and putting the bad guys behind bars for good. He trusted this semi-former con-man with his life.

Peter let his eyes wander to the kitchen but instead of seeing Neal whipping up their dinner, it was empty. Peter knew Neal liked cooking. Maybe he decided to order out and eat in?

He glanced around. Peter had been familiar enough with Neal's apartment to know that nothing looked out of place or tossed through, so no one had broken in. Except there was no sign of Neal.

"Neal?" Peter called out as he walked toward the windows where it led to the balcony which overlooked New York City.

No response. Peter felt awkward walking around Neal's apartment without him present. He loosened his tie, feeling it constrict around his throat. He pulled out his cell phone and knew he should call him. He began dialing Neal's number but paused when he heard something.

He froze. Ears keen to the slightest movement. A rustle and suddenly a low, guttural groan. Peter's eyes widened, knowing exactly what kind of groan that was. Sexual. Unable to stop himself, Peter walked toward the noise.

Neal's secret closet room door was slightly ajar. It was a place Peter heard about through June, when she told him that Byron would discretely change back there in that hideaway. Peter lightly nudged it open to peek inside. He took an instant step back and let out a surprised gasp.

Neal was stretched out on a lounge, plush red couch with ear phones plugged-in and connected to his ipod, completely relaxed and utterly naked. Peter's face blushed red, embarrassed on walking in on Neal. He must have not heard him call out with the ear phones in, he thought. Before Peter had a chance to sneak out he saw something that made his world suddenly tilt off its axis.

Neal pulled long and slow on his towering erection. His gloriously beautiful naked body had distracted him from the sight of Neal's hand at first, now, Peter's gaze was riveted to it. He watched as Neal cupped his balls briefly before ascending upwards over the full length of his well-endowed cock, as he tugged on the stiff flesh before slipping the pad of his thumb over the sensitive tip of the erection. He moaned, rolling his thumb over and over. His thick, long penis made Peter stand back in awe. No wonder Neal walked around with an arrogant smile on his face all the time, Peter thought, he had _that_ dangling between his legs.

He watched, hypnotized as Neal masturbated. The man was stunning, especially naked. Neal's jet black hair was a neat mess, his toes curled tight and his body tense. His butt clenched and his back arched ever so slightly off the couch. Suddenly through parted lips he let out a low, desperate moan as he pulled slow up to the tip, repeating it several times, dragging out his pleasure.

"Fuck…" he groaned from the back of his throat as Neal dug his heels into the cushions, continuously stroking his shaft. Up and down, harder to slower. His eyes were closed tight, his body growing tenser by the moment, on the verge of climax, when Neal suddenly gasped out in a choppy breath, "Peter…"

Peter's eyes widened in utter shock. Neal had just panted his name while… masturbating. He couldn't believe his own ears. He felt paralyzed in the doorway. He stared openly at Neal's sculptured body, with his toned muscular abs and rippling, strong arms. Everything about Neal screamed out pure male sexuality. And Peter felt a sudden overwhelming urge to go to Neal, lying so tense and ready to cum on that sinfully red couch. A primitive side of Peter. One he rarely encountered. Yet in this moment, he saw himself striding into the room without fear and grabbing the back of Neal's neck and pushing his lips down hard onto those incredibly soft, beautiful lips.

Neal's groans grew louder and wilder as his hand now pumped with quicker strokes. Suddenly Peter felt the stiffening of his own cock from the sounds of Neal's desperate moans and the idea that he was the one he was jerking off to.

Neal finally gasped out Peter's name one last time before erupting into his hand. Peter's erection grew unbearably hard at the sight of Neal's face at his orgasm. A mixture of relief and absolute bliss. The man was breath taking, Peter thought, feeling himself being drawn in. But Peter knew he couldn't stay. No matter how conflicted he felt.

Peter quickly slid back out the door and headed for the exit. He suddenly couldn't breathe. His whole partnership with Neal crumbled apart around him. Peter had always secretly been attracted to that overconfident con-man. Except he thought it was because he was just jealous of the man's overall charm and good looks- who wouldn't be drawn into a man like that? That confident swagger, his beautiful smile and unbelievably vivid blue eyes…

Oh God, Peter panicked, realizing he had been denying it to himself the whole time. Seeing Neal aroused and cum, with the expression of sheer ecstasy made Peter hard as a fucking rock and he couldn't deny that proof.

What was he suppose to do now? Peter ran an unsteady hand through his hair as he let the apartment door close silently behind him.

_**TBC **_


	2. Ch 2: Hard to Resist

**Chapter 2: Hard to Resist a Good Conman **

Neal tried not to openly glare at Peter when he walked into work this morning. It took every ounce of Neal's limited self control not get up from his chair, strut over to where Peter currently stood on the stairs and push his ass over the railing.

Peter had the audacity to stand him up last night! Now he just stood there talking to Diana, without a care in the world- completely oblivious to the furious man glaring at his back with enough anger to burn a hole in his suit. Neal tried to calmly sip his coffee, repeating to himself that Peter must have a good reason for ditching him last night. He had to- why else would he not show up? Suddenly Neal paused as he realized that he sounded like a jealous boyfriend angry at his date. Except Peter wasn't Neal's boyfriend. They were just friends.

Peter had no idea that Neal had feelings for him beyond their mutual friendship and fondness. Feelings for a long time Neal denied. Thought it was just some hero worship with sex fantasies blended in. Now he knew the truth. After working every day, side by side for more than a year made Neal come to the hard realization that he had fallen in love with Agent Peter Burke.

Neal knew it was wrong on so many levels. Peter was married to a wonderful woman. He had a successful and promising career in the FBI. Everything was going well for him.

Neal was nothing more than a former conman, released on probation to help solve cases with the white collar division. He had been an infamous conman at one point in his life. No one in the world could capture him and everyone wanted to be like him. He was an outstanding forger and an incredible thief. With a list of crimes and felonies that seemed endless, just like the women who would fell willingly at his feet. Yet this conman fell for a fed. And he fell hard.

But right now, these feelings were quickly turning to hate.

Peter finally ended the conversation with Diana and began walking towards his office. He glanced in through the window doors and saw Neal. Peter slowed to a stop and glanced over his shoulder. Neal suddenly felt all that pent up anger from the night before begin boiling to the surface. Peter was looking for a exist! He knew that look as clearly as his own. How many times had Neal walked into a situation where the only way out was jumping through an open window to escape arrest or getting shot at while running through a warehouse, or kitchen, or restaurant, or airport?

A nervous expression crossed Peter's face. Neal balled his fists together trying to forget the hour he spent cooking up his favorite pasta dish that he wanted to share with Peter and even pulling out his most expensive wine for their dinner together. Not that Peter would be able to notice, still it made Neal feel confident and the evening that more special for him. But he couldn't forget. All he saw was Peter's fear and his own blinding anger.

Peter finally walked in with a tight smile, "Good morning, Neal." He said briskly. "How's my favorite conman?"

"Annoyed." Neal stated flatly.

Peter gave him a quizzical look, "…and why is that?"

"You didn't come to dinner last night," Neal couldn't hold back the hurt in his voice. He tried to cover it by quickly adding, "Where were you?"

Peter sat down behind his desk, flipping on his computer, "I was here." He hesitated before saying hurriedly, "I thought we made it for Friday." Peter was avoiding eye-contact with him.

"No, it was last night." Neal's eyes narrowed, alarm bells going off in his head. Peter had never been a very good liar to him and he could always spot his from a mile away. "What case?"

Peter frowned, still staring at his computer, "Uh- it was the Richardson case."

Neal smiled lightly, remembering the case. "Mrs. Richardson?"

"Yeah," Peter said glancing around to see Neal's light expression. His grew confident, "It was just a follow-up."

"Didn't she have a dog?" Neal said, still smiling.

Peter shrugged indifferently, "I don't recall." He returned his attention to his computer, still avoiding any serious conversation with Neal.

"Well, I'm sure Mrs. Richardson appreciated the call." Neal said, trying to clamp down his temper while holding on to his casual appearance and light tone.

"Yeah," Peter mumbled and logged onto his FBI database.

"Funny…" Neal titled his head sideways, "last time I heard she was still doin' hard time in prison for murdering her husband over a Monet."

Peter's face fell as he then realized his mistake and locked eyes with Neal. Before he could spew out an excuse, Agent Jones walked in, rescuing Peter.

"Sir- Montoya's on the move. We've got people tracking him now."

Peter instantly got to his feet, ready to flee. Neal abruptly stood as well, side-stepping in front of Peter. He glanced over to Jones, "Give us a minute?"

Jones nodded without question and left the office, returning downstairs.

"Neal- I don't have time for this." Peter hastily tried to out maneuver him. Neal just kept stepping in and blocking him.

"I called your cell-phone- you didn't answer. I called Liz and she told me that you were still working." Neal began feeling his control slip as he continued on, "I called your office... No answer. I called you all night Peter- where were you?"

Peter exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He suddenly looked helpless until finally he said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "I can't tell you."

"Really?" Neal moved closer to Peter, suspicious of every breath he took at this point. "I think you can tell me- you just don't want to."

Peter's jaw clenched down and his nostrils flared. His dark, tense eyes focused hard onto Neal, "We'll talk about this later," he gritted out through his teeth.

"No- we're talking about it now." Neal moved right into Peter's personal space, trapping him between the desk and himself. Neal wanted to push his buttons and shove his boundaries. He was upset and hurt. He thought Peter trusted him. Now when he wanted the truth from him, he only got lies or excuses.

Peter reached out and grabbed his arm in attempt to move him but Neal quickly deflected it and held tightly to his wrist. Peter and Neal were now face to face. Only a breath apart from one another. Peter's frustration seemed to vanish right before Neal's eyes as Peter gazed down curiously at his mouth.

Neal's heart hammered in his chest so hard he thought he was having a panic attack. The way Peter was looking at him in that moment made his pulse race and mind draw completely blank of rational thought. Their bodies were close enough to feel the heat from each other as Peter's eyes darkened, "I saw you last night, Neal," he said in a gruff whisper, making his insides tighten.

Neal inched forward, desperate for Peter. Desperate for an ounce of whatever he would give him. He knew it was pathetic. He would never grovel for sex. Not in a million years. Except he would walk over hot coals to get one night of hot, dirty sex with Peter Burke. The thought sent an excited shiver racing through his body.

"No you didn't," he said in a rush, feeling Peter's breath on the side of his cheek and the heat of their bodies tightening around him. "You didn't come to my apartment- you weren't…."

Peter cut him off, "I saw you…" he rotated his hand around recapturing Neal's arm, gripping him tightly and pulling him in even closer. Neal shuddered. "I walked in on you masturbating," Peter whispered, this time his eyes held an unmistakable hunger. One that Neal recognized all too well. That desperate, undeniable hunger that mirrored his own. Peter continued, "I heard you call out my name right before you… came."

Neal's face flushed, unable to say anything. He wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him he was imagining things. But Neal knew he wouldn't believe that for a nanosecond. "You snuck into my apartment?" he asked in the same hushed tones as Peter.

"No- well… yeah," he stuttered, "I wanted to surprise you. I didn't realize I'd also…"

"See me jerking off?" Neal replied bluntly.

"Thank you for putting it so delicately."

Neal noted Peter's obvious discomfort with the topic. But he also couldn't deny the sexual tension between them now. Or was it just Neal's wishful thinking that Peter would want him in any other capacity than just work partner. But he knew he had to risk it all if he wanted any kind of response from Peter. Neal was always good at making the first move. It was the second move though that really mattered.

"Do you want to know why…?" Neal's voice took a sultry tone.

Peter's eyes returned to Neal's lips, speechless.

"I knew I wouldn't last an entire evening with you- sitting at my table, eating my food, drinking my wine without wanting to reach across the table and kiss you. I know myself well enough to know how to handle my impulses and with you around…" he hesitated. "It's difficult." Neal reached out and lightly touched Peter's belt buckle. His senses screaming for him, wanting to plant his lips down onto Peter's and kiss his lips raw. "I had to find a release before you came over or else I would've done something I shouldn't have with you…"

His voice trailed off when he heard Peter let out a strangled groan as Neal's fingers brushed ever so slightly over the front of his pants, lightly touching the outline of his cock. Neal wanted to let out his own moan in sheer happiness when he felt Peter's response at the simple brush of his finger tips. The stirrings of an erection in those black slacks.

"We can't do this," Peter said in a tight voice.

"We're not doing anything," Neal said casually, though his own dick was at full salute and hard beneath his designer suit.

"Neal…" Peter pleaded desperately when Neal's fingers moved up his erection, rubbing him slowly. It took all of Neal's will power to only touch, not devour. Finally, he thought in utter relief and happiness. Finally! Peter was letting him in- letting him move those boundaries of their relationship to the next level.

Before Neal could rejoice for too long, the desk phone rang loudly, interrupting the spell between them. Peter took an unsteady step back, his erection visible and straining through his pants. Neal glanced down, noted his was also quite visible.

Peter answered the phone, his voice lingering with a harsh gruffness. And he was also very flustered. Neal liked it when Peter was off center. It was entering and also flattering to know he actually had an effect on the unflappable FBI agent.

"Jones needs us," Peter said, tossing the phone back down. He paused before looking up at him, "Wait here for a moment- come when you're ready."

I'm ready to cum now, he thought. Instead he nodded and let Peter pass him. Before he left Neal couldn't help but ask, "Why didn't you say anything when you saw me last night?"

Shame crossed Peter's face, "I was embarrassed. I didn't know you actually thought of me that way."

"And now that you know?"

Peter laughed but the humor never reached his eyes. "I really don't know." His face grew solemn, "Neal- you've confused me, shocked me and now _aroused_ me. I never thought I could feel this way for a…"

"For a conman? A criminal?" Neal filled in, knowing Peter would never want to have a relationship with a man like him. FBI and all.

"No," Peter said, surprising him, "That has nothing to do with it, Neal." He paused, unsure of what to say and then blurted out, "With another man." And with that exasperated declaration, Peter left the office.

Neal stood for a moment, his heart still beating rapidly against his chest. He had to plan for the next time he had Peter alone. He needed to get Peter. He had no other choice. Next time they were alone Neal planned on doing more than an over the pant rub and tug. He wanted to show Peter what it would be like to have someone like Neal Cafferey as his lover.

_**TBC**_

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><p><strong>Plz comment &amp; let me know what u think so far! thanks! ^_^<strong>


	3. Ch 3: Man in the Hat

**Chapter 3: Man in the Hat**

"Neal- you don't have to do this. We can send somebody else," Peter watched Neal check himself one last time in a passing car window, readjusting his hat. His appearance was perfect, as usual.

Neal smiled easily, "C'mon Peter. We both know this is our only shot at Montoya. After this, we'll have our man."

Peter tried not to read too much into Neal's over-confident tone. "Fine, but just know I'll be at the bar, listening. Should anything happen, you just say the code word and I'll get you out."

"Along with a dozen other FBI agents and a SWAT team…" Neal responded tartly. "I know."

"This guy's dangerous," Peter said pointing an accusing finger, "we can't risk him escaping again."

"You struck oil, Peter- stop drilling. I get it." Neal's sudden agitation broke through his cool demeanor.

Peter paused. He couldn't risk Neal feeling the slightest bit of doubt walking in on this. He needed him to be on board a hundred percent. If not, he was pulling the plug.

"Okay. How are you feeling?" He asked, studying the conman's face, waiting to see a tell that he knew he'd never spot.

Neal's sharp blue eyes turned to him, "I'm fine, Peter. Really. Besides- me and Monty go way back, he'll trust me."

"I barely trust you." Peter grumbled, "What makes you think this guy will?"

Neal's confidence returned, "Because I have something he wants."

Sudden panic seized Peter. He jerked Neal to the side of the street, away from public view. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

"Relax. Monty wants the only thing I have and has never given him." He let his words hang in the air before he finished, "me."

"You?" Peter asked, still processing.

"Yeah- me. As in he wants to sleep with me." Neal said casually as if it was an everyday occurrence that a notorious money launder and art thief wanted to have sex with him. Peter paused again. Of course they would. Having sex with Neal… damn now he couldn't get the image out of his head. After catching Neal masturbating the other day, it was all Peter could think about. He woke up with a hard on like some twenty year-old this morning and had to take a shower before El woke up. Those images were tormenting him night and day. Then after their interaction this morning in his office, Neal's fingers were now added to the list of things he fantasized about.

Just thinking about Neal stroking his thick, hard shaft. Moaning and writhing on the bed like a man possessed until he found that one glorious, moment of release. Fuck, Peter thought, as he felt the stiffening of his own cock. He needed to keep himself in check. No more sex fantasies starring Neal. He had to focus on getting him out alive and safe.

"So what's your play on him?" Peter asked trying to ignore his sudden awareness to how good Neal looked tonight. His black hat titled downward, with his stark white suit standing out, and a light pink color button up suit shirt beneath. He looked down right edible.

"I want Monty to set the pace. Once he figure's me clean and on his side then I'll put the tracker on him, pull out and we can see where he leads us." Neal slipped his fingers over his wrist to reveal the ultra light weight see-through tracker device designed by the CIA, but given to the FBI gadgets department. It could be slipped onto clothing or skin. It was clear, making it blend in and disappear on whoever wore it.

"Are we good?" Neal asked Peter, obviously irritated by the sudden interrogation.

Peter wished Neal would've said something before he sent you in to become Monty's butt-buddy. He exhaled slowly, "We're fine. Let's go before I change my mind." But it was already too late- they had already arrived at Montoya's night club.

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><p>Peter tried not to look too obvious sitting at the bar, hunched over his full glass of scotch. The bar was lit with blue lights, which reflected off the mirror on the wall of the bar. The bar shelves displayed all the best alcohol money could buy. It was like a conman's wet dream of liquor.<p>

The night club was unlike any night club Peter had raided before. The music was industrial techno that pounded out of the high tech stereo equipment. Young people littered the dark dance floor. All of them seemed to have two things in common. Beautiful and rich. It was a club that didn't allow the suburban kids.

Luckily Neal was able to charm the bouncer to let both of them in the club. Peter should've let Diana join Neal instead of himself. But he didn't trust Montoya. He had chased him before, a long time ago. Now when Peter finally had the chance to catch him, he was not going to let him slip away.

Neal blended in well with this crowd. His classic suit and charming smile won many hearts as he easily played the crowd to his advantage and requested a meet and greet with Montoya immediately. Peter held his breath in anticipation. Never had he recalled feeling so nervous having Neal walk into a situation like this before. If Neal would've told him about a connection with him and Montoya before… he paused and realized he would still have sent in Neal to handle Montoya. With or without the sexual element between them.

Suddenly the two big body guards, dressed in all black stepped aside from the VIP entrance, where Neal waited. Christian Montoya stepped forward, also dressed in all black, except his was a designer suit with a silk shirt beneath. He was a handsome man, with slicked dark brown hair and just as dark eyes that played across the room and over the contours of Neal's body. His appearance seemed informal at first, but after a while it felt like a snake was staring at you, waiting to strike. Peter put the scotch glass to his lips, listening to the ear piece relaying Neal and Montoya's interaction.

"Neal… old friend. How are you?" Montoya drawled out in a heavy British accent.

"I'm good. I heard you were back in town and wanted to say hello and congratulations on France."

France? Peter thought, frowning as he glanced over his shoulder to see Montoya's slow smile toward Neal. Neal never told them anything about Montoya's work in France. All the FBI knew was Montoya had a brief stay there before returning to America. Great, now they were going to have to find out what Montoya stole from France too, he thought bitterly.

"Aw-yes, France." Montoya laughed, "Thank you. It was quite a challenge. But you know me Neal, I always do love a good challenge." The tone shifted in Montoya's voice. Wow, he didn't lose time on formalities this one, he went straight for Neal.

Neal chuckled, "I remember, Monty."

"Oh- I hate it when you call me that, Neal." He replied coyly, then his voice went low, "but I guess one night wouldn't kill me."

Peter heard movement from the ear-piece. He glanced again over his shoulder to spy on them. Neal had moved closer to Monty. All Peter could see of Neal was his back, but Monty- he could tell he was very pleased with a smug smile on his lips as the conman whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Peter hoped that it was nothing.

"Why the change of heart, Neal?" Monty asked in a seductive whisper. His dark eyes intense.

Neal smiled softly, "I realized my loss after you disappeared into Europe. I should've taken you up on our very generous offer." He said in the same seductive but firm voice. Peter felt his skin crawl at the idea of Monty touching Neal in any way.

"Really…? I'm intrigued. What have you come to offer in exchange for me to renew my sentiments from before?" this time Monty moved closer and began straightening Neal's suit. Touching him. Peter felt his body instinctively tighten up in preparation to move. He barely kept himself locked on the barstool, watching Monty's hands on Neal. He had no idea where this impulse was coming from, all he knew and felt was the rage building up inside him.

"A trade," Neal responded. "I have something you've always wanted. I give it to you, and we partner up for the next job."

He looked like the cat that caught the canary, "you're going to have to be more specific on the trade, darling."

Neal ducked his head and stepped in to whisper into Monty's ear. Peter strained to listen. He heard Neal say, "You let me in on the Lindermen job- then you get one night with me."

"Only one?" Monty protested, "For something as valuable as the Lindermen, I might want more."

Neal kissed the side of Monty's cheek, "Trust me, Monty. One night with me, will be more than enough. I will make every minute count."

Monty turned his head and captured Neal's lips. Peter jolted up like lightening just struck him. That fucking bastard! Peter fumed, downing his untouched scotch, letting it burn his throat.

"I'll take that as a yes, Monty." Neal said, pretending to be aroused by Monty's stolen kiss.

Monty ran his hand over the side of Neal's face then through his hair, snagging his hat before it fell. Monty twirled it similar to the way Neal does and put it on himself. "I'll call you when I move on Lindermen. After its over- you make good on your part." He smiled, tilted Neal's hat and walked off with it. The body guards moved in, shutting Neal out from further interaction with Monty.

After a few deep, calming breaths, Peter had managed to get his blood pressure back to normal once he slipped out the night club. A few moments later, Peter called off the van and directed them back to the office for a briefing. He waited for Neal to reappear outside the night club. The streets were quiet. Everyone had already gotten inside the club or called it night if they couldn't. He stared hard at his reflection in one of the cars parked on the curb. Why did he keep replaying that kiss like some awful record? He sighed heavily, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Don't look so glum, Peter. I think it went well," Neal smiled at him, "tracking device is in place and I've been invited in on the job. I think that's a win-win."

Neal seemed to be waiting for a congratulations from Peter or even recognition for a job well done but he couldn't make himself do it. Not with Neal promising sex in return to that bastard. He knew Neal would never actually go through with it, that it was just another con to get into Monty's good graces. Still- the idea of Neal sacrificing his integrity for a con. It made Peter wonder what else Neal would do to gain the upper hand.

"Let's get back to the office. We'll debrief there." Peter turned and began walking back to his car.

"What? That's it?" Neal asked, hands out stretched questioningly, not following him.

Peter gave him a hard look over his shoulder as he continued walking. "That's it- let's go."

Suddenly Peter felt the air rush out of him as Neal grabbed him by the arm, catching him off guard and slamming him into the wall of the alley he had just walked by. Before Peter could even process what happened, Neal was all over him. His hands gripping him tightly against the brick wall, his body inches apart from his own. Their eyes locked, Neal's blue eyes were stormy right before he kissed him.

Peter tried to pull back instinctively, but Neal fought him using his whole body to force him hard against the wall. Neal's lips were amazing as he moved with purpose and passion, tasting him and devouring him at the same time. He felt helpless against the onslaught of heat from Neal. They broke apart for a breath, Peter panting with shock. But he didn't want to think, he didn't want to regret this kiss, because it was amazing. Instead he did the only thing he wanted to do, kiss Neal right back.

Peter grabbed the back of Neal's neck and jerked him hard against him into a full body slam. They met with equal ferocity now. Hard and desperate as their mouths clashed. Teeth scraping together, bodies molding into one another as both men fought for dominance and control, making their kiss that more intense and unstoppable. Neal opened his mouth, inviting Peter in. And he did. He took Neal's mouth thoroughly. His tongue mated with his and mimicked the act of loving making- in and out. Neal groaned and began trembling in Peter's engulfing arms.

Neal's mouth was perfect. He tasted like whiskey and pure sex. He needed more and demanded more with his mouth. Neal broke off seconds later, gasping as he held onto Peter's arm and waist. God, his cock was hard, he thought, trying not to arch his back and rub against Neal like some fucking dog. But he couldn't help it. Neal could see the hunger and anguish.

Still panting from their kisses, he glanced down at Peter's swollen pants and with one hand he pressed against Peter's chest, holding him up against the wall. He then gazed into Peter's eyes when he unzipped his pants, and slipped his hand inside under his boxers. Neal watched him feel the pleasure of having his cock stroked. Peter moaned, his breath choppy and uneven as Neal grabbed him at the base of his shaft and began to pull.

He arched his back and moved his hips against Neal's pumping hand. It felt so damn good, he didn't want to stop him. Neal moved in closer and began sucking on his ear. Licking and nibbling as his hand tormented him with slow, unhurried strokes.

"Neal…" he gasped out desperately. "Fuck…"

Neal said nothing as his lips moved to the side of Peter's neck and began kissing softly, tenderly. Peter's cock swelled in his hand the moment the pad of his thumb flickered over the tip of his penis, almost making him cum. His heart raced in his chest, feeling Neal's lips now suck his neck and bite into him. "Harder…" he pleaded. Neal complied by bruising Peter's neck with his bite marks.

Peter cursed as he dipped his chin and captured Neal's mouth again. This time Neal took control with rough, demanding kisses. His whiskers brushed against his cheek, their mouths mated and danced. Neal was wonderful- the solidness of his body against his, the steel grip his hand on his cock, the sweetness of his mouth…

Neal's breath mingled with his own as he whispered, his sharp blue eyes focused and heated, "cum for me, Peter."

Peter started to feel the building tension becoming unbearable. Neal began to pull him, pumping his shaft roughly and quickly. He couldn't breathe with the force from the on-coming climax. Neal's thumb pressed down on his tip and then with one final hard stroke- Peter came into Neal's hand. It was earth-shattering. Peter moaned out his name in frantic huffs.

Leaning heavily for support against the wall behind him as his legs went weak and his penis softened in Neal's talented hand.

Neal returned to the side of Peter's face to nibble on his ear lobe. "You were jealous of me and Monty."

Peter turned his head, their lips brushing but not kissing. "Yes," he admitted.

Neal smiled making Peter's gut tighten in response. Neal had the best smile. "Good," he said teasingly, as he took the back of Peter's head and moved in for another kiss.

This kiss wasn't rushed or hungry. It was slow and heartbreakingly tender. "Come to my apartment after the briefing." Neal whispered against his mouth.

Peter reached out and stroked the side of his cheek. "I can't- El will be expecting me home."

Neal sighed heavily, resting his forehead on the side of Peter's neck. "I need you, Peter." He whispered desperately as took Peter's hand and led him to the bulge in his pants. "I can't wait for you any longer. Please..."

Peter knew he had to say no. He had to go home and lie down besides El on their bed and pretend none of this happened tonight. He couldn't stay with Neal. He couldn't make love to Neal tonight or any night. So why was it so hard for him to say it?

"I'll do anything you ask, Peter. Just say yes," Neal said gazing at him, obvious fear and anxiety over being rejected in his face.

Peter looked at him, uncertain. Until he realized he had made his decision to be with Neal the moment they kissed. No- before that. When he heard Neal pant out his name while he saw him masturbating. It had made Peter want him with such intensity it made his heart pound with excitement and terror. He had never wanted anyone this badly before. He never felt this way with El. But he wanted Neal. He couldn't deny it any longer.

"All right," Peter agreed.

A relieved smile broke out over Neal's face. "Let's go get this briefing over with then."

"I've never seen you this excited before over a briefing," Peter teased as he adjusted his pants and tie, trying to regain some type of normalcy.

"I've never had anything to look forward afterwards," his eyes gazed over seductively at Peter.

Peter shivered in sudden anticipation, "start walking, Casanova."

Neal smiled as they left the alley and headed back to Peter's car.

_**TBC**_


	4. Ch 4: Making Every Minute Count

**Chapter 4: **_**Making Every Minute Count**_

"That was the longest briefing in history," Neal mumbled, opening the door to his apartment.

"It only felt long. I think we got out at a reasonable time," Peter said with his usual candor. Neal bit back an exasperated sigh. Only Peter would see the business side of the briefing while Neal saw it as interrupting time he could've had Peter in his bed- naked.

He glanced at the clock hanging against the far wall. Half past ten. Not enough time, damnit, he thought. He wanted all night with Peter. But knew that he had to let him go once it struck midnight- he had a wife to get home to.

If Neal could have stopped time and made this night with Peter last- he would've done it in a heartbeat, even if he had to give everything he stole back. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except making every minute count.

Peter shrugged off his coat and set it on the table. He seemed nervous as he glanced about the apartment, as if he hadn't seen it a dozen times before tonight. Neal went for the booze but while doing so, he began to undress. Just his tie first. He would take this slow even if it killed him. He didn't want to scare Peter's fragile sensibilities and have him fleeing to the door. Neal placed his tie on the bar, pouring two stiff drinks. He watched as Peter loosened his tie but not taking it off completely.

Neal ignored the flutter in his belly and the heat he was already beginning to feel. Seducing an FBI agent had never been on his list of things to accomplish in his life, now it seemed like the most important thing in the world.

"Thanks," Peter took the drink and swallowed it quickly. Neal followed suit, his direct gaze never wavering from his FBI agent.

He reached around Peter, setting his empty glass on the table, brushing up against the side of his body. He couldn't help himself. Neal took Peter's empty glass from his fingers and set it next to his. He returned to Peter, who was staring at him with scared excitement.

"I've never been with a man before," he said, breathless when Neal stepped closer, removing his tie.

"Neither have I," Neal replied, unbuttoning Peter's white suit shirt. "I've always wondered what it would be like. But I was never inspired to try…" his eyes followed the trail down his chest to the white tank top that lie beneath, "until now."

Biting down on his lower lip, Neal began to undress Peter. It was slow and very sensual. Peter simply stood there, his breathing heavy. The intensity of his gaze was smoldering with enough heat to set the building on fire as he watched Neal under heavy eye lids.

"Have you imagined this?" Peter asked curiously.

Neal slowly unbuckled his belt, letting the clasp click apart before answering, "yes." He hesitated before deciding to be completely honest with Peter, while unzipping his pants. "I've imagined screwing you so many times and in so many ways that I couldn't get off without pretending it was you." Peter's belly shivered beneath Neal's touch.

They finished undressing in silence. The only thing they could hear was their choppy, excited breathing and the rustling of clothes being removed. Neal gazed over Peter's hard form. He had such strong, steel like arms which he always used when grabbing a criminal and hulling them away. His chest was smooth and naturally muscled, with thick toned legs. His cock stirred to life as his eyes fell upon Peter's manhood. He was beautiful and perfect. Long, hard and aroused.

Neal led Peter to the bedroom. Nothing felt awkward. Their movements were casual and natural. They trusted each other. Before Neal could lie down on the bed, Peter turned him and ran a calloused hand through his hair affectionately. He titled the side of his face into Peter's hand, kissing him, licking the palm.

Neal's whole body began to ache and throb, ready to be touched by these rough hands. "Touch me, Peter…" Neal begged pleadingly.

Peter's hands were on him instantly, covering and caressing every part of him. Neal moaned out loud when his hand ran over his chest, over his sensitive nipples and tracing downwards to his groin. He felt helpless under Peter's hands. After several seconds of teasing him by touching around his thigh, Peter went to Neal's swollen cock and grabbed him at the base of his shaft.

"Yes…" he groaned out, his head titling back in utter pleasure even though Peter's hand hadn't yet began to pump him. "It feels so much better with _your_ hand…"

Peter chuckled, "I'm sure you've imagined this many times…"

"You have no idea," he muttered, his eyes shooting open, his hand reaching out and grasping Peter from behind the neck and pulling him down for one long, hard kiss. Peter whimpered against him as Neal walked backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell. Peter and him tumbled onto the bed together, lips still locked in sheer madness and desperate hunger.

The arousal hit him hard as he dragged himself over Peter's body, feeling every inch of him with his own naked flesh, letting his cock brush against Peter's. Skin to skin, legs tangled, arms intertwined, hips both arching and dicks straining.

Peter's dark brown eyes shut tightly when Neal roughly moved his hand down his torso, dragging his nails across his thighs, so close to his erection. Peter gasped, jerking his cock upward. Neal watched the bead of precum wet the tip of his erection. A guttural groan escaped the back of Peter's throat when Neal finally went between his legs and took his cock into his warm, wet mouth.

Neal had never sucked a man's dick before. But he had experienced it and knew what men liked. He fondled Peter's balls as his lips and tongue danced teasingly over his cock, before sucking and pumping him in his mouth. Peter's legs tensed around him, his hand roughly forcing Neal's mouth down harder onto his cock. Neal felt his own dick harden at Peter's rough display of dominance.

He sucked that much harder and faster until Peter was cursing and moaning. The orgasm building in his body. Peter's hips bucked wildly, Neal opening his mouth that much wider until he felt the cock swell and release into his mouth. He wanted to taste him. He wanted to know all of Peter. He wanted to bring him to his knees. Neal sucked him dry, swallowing his cum.

Now it was Neal's turn. He was so hard he could barely control his urgency. He grabbed Peter's waist and rolled him to his stomach, which he went willingly, still semi-hard. Neal grabbed the condom from his bedside table, except his hands were shaking too badly. He was too excited, too nervous. Everything he dreamt about and fantasized about with Peter was coming true. He felt less nervous breaking into a vault then the idea of ruining his night with Peter.

"Here," Peter's voice was low and reassuring. He reached out and took the condom from Neal. "Allow me," he smiled boyishly up at Neal, who was kneeling on the bed in front of him with his cock in his hand, literally. Peter easily readjusted the slick condom and slipped it over Neal's shaft. Neal trembled under his fingers. He exhaled heavily, practically cumming from under Peter's confident fingers that trailed over the length of him. Peter then unexpectedly dipped his head between Neal's thighs and slid his mouth over the condom, lubricating it.

Neal almost came right then and there. Seeing his cock in Peter's mouth was almost his undoing. He breathed through his nose several times, trying to control himself.

Peter hesitated, "Neal?"

Neal opened his heavy lidded eyes, knowing that one thrust into Peter would shatter Neal into a million little pieces. Peter looked at him in understanding and rolled to his stomach, letting Neal control his movements. Neal spread a hand out over his back, running down to his backside, caressing him, rubbing his cock against his cheeks. Peter moaned making Neal tremble. Neal knew he couldn't prolong his own torment any longer.

Neal moved Peter onto all fours. His heavy cock pushed his way in and entered in one hard thrust. Peter cursed in surprise and utter shock but Neal couldn't stop himself as he pumped and rocked against him. He rode him hard, his hips thumping widely. The bed began creaking as Peter suddenly gasped out in pleasure as Neal pounded into him. Blood roared in Neal's ears and his body felt so alive and hot. _Finally!_ He cherished, _he had Peter!_ He always wanted this… he wanted, no _needed_ Peter.

He began to feel the tension of the climax. It felt so damn good and right, that when he finally came, listening to the wonderful sighs of pleasure from Peter as he pounded harder and faster. He instantly erupted at the sound of his name being panted out from Peter's lips, sending millions of sensations flowing through him like heaven.

He grabbed a hold of Peter's hips tightly, unable to breathe or move while he came. It was so glorious it felt surreal. Neal slowly pulled out, his body humming with contentment. Peter turned over, his body worn out and his breathing, choppy. With his eyes closed, he didn't see Neal at all, simply kept himself still for a few minutes as Neal kneeled over him on the bed, their legs still intertwined from lovemaking.

Finally Peter opened his soft golden brown eyes. They stared at each other a long time. Neal had never made love to someone so hard in his entire life. It felt good yet, he didn't know how Peter would react. Peter reached out and pushed the wayward strand of black hair from Neal's forehead.

Without any words, Peter pulled him down in his embrace, those steel arms engulfing him with warmth and tenderness. Neal's heart lifted with such hope, that he began to feel the hole in his heart stitch together- complete. Neither of them knew how long they laid like that, hours or minutes, it didn't matter.

The softness of the bed and the darkness of the night enclosed them. Neal couldn't have dreamed of a better night with Peter. It had been everything he had imagined and so much more. He knew that after tonight, he would no longer be able to survive on fantasies- he would need Peter. He needed him so badly, his heart ached from it.

"Neal…" Peter whispered into the softness of Neal's dark hair.

Neal shifted, pulling himself closer to Peter. He felt so relaxed and content, he could only respond with a, "hmm?"

Peter's voice was filled with regret as he said, "I have to go."

"No," Neal protested, holding onto Peter's naked chest tightly against his own.

Peter kissed his forehead, gripping the hand on his chest. "I know- trust me, I don't want to leave you."

Neal knew he had to let him go. He had to return to El. But Neal felt greedy, "stay with me." He turned his determined blue eyes onto Peter.

His expression grew dark, "I can't. You know that." Neal tried to protest again, but Peter slipped out of their embrace and began gathering his clothes and dressing.

With his tie loose around his neck and clasping his belt buckle into place Neal finally asked, "What now?" He felt like a hapless love sick school boy with the crush on his favorite teacher. He knew perfectly well that the teacher was off limits but it didn't make him want the teacher any less. Especially now when his teacher/fed stood before him, with sex hair and in a rumpled suit.

"I'm going to talk with El." Peter said honestly. Neal didn't except that.

"What are you going to tell her?"

Peter sighed heavily, "I don't know. I…" He hesitated, "I love her- but I can't do this to her when I have feelings …" he stopped himself abruptly.

Neal's heart slammed against his chest. The sudden look of panic crossed Peter's face. Neal left the bed and stood in front of Peter, naked and unafraid. He wanted to reach out and stroke the side of his face. But Peter couldn't look him in the eyes. So instead, Neal straightened Peter's tie, without mentioning their awkwardness.

Peter straightened, raking a hand through his mused hair. "How do I look?"

Neal smiled, "like you just got screwed."

Peter groaned, pushing the strands of hair down harder. Neal laughed, "I have some stuff to help with that," he motioned to the bathroom.

"No, it's all right. El is probably asleep anyway. It doesn't matter…" he trailed off gazing into Neal's eyes. "Thank you," he said.

Neal shrugged, feeling suddenly cheated. He hoped Peter did not plan on never doing this again with him. He wondered what he would do if Peter decided to stay with El. But how could he, especially after what they just shared and experienced together? It was magical to say the least. Now Peter would be the dutiful husband and return to the wife. While Neal felt like the one night stand or the dirty mistress.

"So, is that it?" Neal asked, trying to hold back the hurt in his voice.

Peter looked away, ashamed. "I don't know, Neal."

A sudden spark of anger flickered in his belly. He would not let Peter go without a fight first, even if it was against his own indecision. Neal roughly captured Peter's soft lips. He hungrily devoured him like a ripe peach. He took and took and left nothing wanting. The second Peter began to respond to his kiss, Neal pulled back, gripping the back of his neck fiercely. "Remember that when you fall asleep tonight. Think about what happened tonight and the possibility of what we can have every night."

Peter nodded dully, still unable to look him in the eyes and walked to the door. Without another word Peter left. Neal felt alone without him. He returned to the bed they shared and laid down. It smelled of hot sex and Peter. He rolled into the sheets and found a comfortable spot before settling in. He wanted to cherish this night. He feared it would be his last and only night with Peter. The man that he had somehow fallen in love with through the course of their partnership. Now he could only hope Peter recognized he had feelings for Neal... or else they could never truly be together.

_**TBC**_

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the awesome reviews so far! especially to: caramelcandylover , vampireluvr15 , twilightmecrazii ,&amp; OcherEloquence - ur all fantastical! thank u! <strong>

**PLZ comment & review! I luv getting feedback no matter how random! **

**~kidneythieves ;)**


	5. Ch 5: Clock's Ticking

**Chapter 5: Clock's Ticking**

It had been one, long week from Hell for Peter Burke. He spent most of his time at work, building the case against Montoya, the rest in his cheap hotel room since Elizabeth kicked him out of the house. She wasn't surprised that Peter had a 'thing' with Neal, which surprised him. She was one very unhappy woman about it. She told him to pack his stuff and get out. Two suitcases later, Peter reluctantly left their home of ten years. It was heart wrenching to say the least. Except he knew he had to tell her the truth and be honest with her and himself. Neal had become more than just a work partner.

Neal… he thought of him often since that night. A whole week had past between them and Neal acted as if nothing happened, as if their passionate, wonderful, amazing, earth-shattering love making had never happened. Peter didn't bring it up either. Neal seemed like his old self the following Monday morning. Helping with the case, drinking coffee, strutting around the office without a care in the world.

Peter on the other hand, felt his life falling apart around him. Elizabeth was gone, his home was gone and now Neal… whenever they even had a moment alone together, Neal always made an excuse to leave the room or vanish mysteriously. It was getting on Peter's nerves. He wanted to talk to him. He kept remembering those shared moments with Neal that night. The way Neal kissed him so hard his lips bruised and when he went down on him taking his dick in his mouth and…

Oh great, Peter thought angrily feeling his cock stir restlessly awake beneath his desk. His cock had been doing that a lot lately too. Just the slightest little smile from Neal, the way his head titled sideways, his eyes bright with mischief and those boyish good looks- his cock would harden like a brick. It was embarrassing and becoming a problem.

Peter just didn't understand Neal's distant behavior since he was the one who brought this all on in the first place. He was the one who held him close, promising him that they could have more nights together.

Peter snorted at his own thoughts, he sounded like a romantic- with Neal of all people! Suddenly the Devil himself rushed into his office, "Peter- Montoya just texted me a meeting place."

"When and where?"

"Noon, down at the marina." Neal seemed excited, his blue eyes brighter than usual.

Peter frowned, "I don't like this. It's not much time for us to set up a team…"

"Peter…" Neal said warningly, "Montoya trusts me- I trust him, sorta. We have to move on this or he'll vanish again."

Peter didn't like it but Neal was confident. He sighed, "Fine. I'll get the team in place and I'll cut your ankle."

Neal shut the door behind him and moved the chair in front of Peter's desk. He placed his foot on top. Peter grabbed a pair of scissors. He stared hard into Neal's anxious face. "Are you sure about this? Montoya's dangerous…"

"I know. Look, I seriously doubt Monty would risk ruining the deal with me. He wants me too much. He always has. I've tempted him for years now and he finally gets to have it all- the money and me."

Peter's eyes narrowed, "Or so he thinks."

Neal smiled, "Right."

Peter sighed again, "If this goes wrong, I get to say I told you so."

"It won't." Neal said determinedly. Peter went in-between Neal's raised leg, gripped his calf tightly and cut the ankle monitor off. He twisted it off his ankle carefully and tossed the scissors and monitor on his desk. Suddenly Peter was hit with an arousal like no other. It had been a week. One, long, miserable week without Neal. He needed him. He needed to taste him, touch him…

He tried to steady himself. They were in his office, with dozen or more eyes that could look in and see them at any time. He had to regain his control. He glanced up. Neal's eyes were closed, his head slightly tilted back and his lips parted just so. Damn, Peter thought, he looked as hot as he felt. God, he just wanted to fuck him right here, right now. His cock now strained against him. Without thinking, Peter slowly moved his hand up Neal's calf to his inner leg and up towards his thigh. Neal's eyes shot open the moment Peter gripped his thigh near his cock. His eyes were dilated and thundering with intensity.

"I've missed you…" Peter said in a breathless whisper.

"I've been here every day," Neal spoke calmly, though his eyes said differently.

"You know what I mean, Neal." Peter grumbled creeping closer to Neal's tented pants. The sexual intensity between them was palpable. Both wanting to reach out and take- but knew that they couldn't.

Neal grabbed Peter's hand right before he was able to stroke his erection, "No."

Peter wanted to let out a groan of frustration but held it back. "Damnit, Neal…" he growled angrily.

"You made your choice," Neal stepped back, putting distance between them.

Peter snorted, "Yeah. I made a choice. So far it's brought me nothing but a constant hard on and a crappy hotel room."

Neal's eyes widened, "What?" Hope spread across his face.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, "El kicked me out of the house. I told her everything."

"Everything?" Neal gaped at him, "Really?"  
>"Well- not everything," Peter walked toward the window overlooking the city. He tried to walk off his hard on. "I told her that I was… I don't know. I just told her that you and I…" he hesitated, unable to say it. "She seemed to know… and she wasn't surprised either." Neal said nothing, only watched Peter pace. He continued, "I packed my bags and have been sleeping in a hotel room since this weekend."<p>

"Why didn't you say anything?"

It was Peter's turn to gape at him, "You've been avoiding me all week! Should I have just randomly slipped into our conversation- 'oh by the way, I'm getting a divorce because of what we did the other night'?"

Neal stunned expression helped relieve Peter's growing anger. "No, I guess not. So now what do you plan on doing?"

Peter stopped burning a hole in his carpet, "I don't know. I was hoping you'd tell me."

Peter recognized the disappointment in Neal's face the moment he said it. He knew Neal wanted him to make his own decision regarding their relationship. He could tell from the way he didn't want Peter to leave him that night, almost giving him a silent ultimatum to commit or walk away. Now that he ended one relationship, was he suppose to begin one with Neal? He still couldn't wrap his brain around the idea. It was really great sex and he just wanted Neal sexually, and in no other capacity. Peter frowned, or did he? The thought made him pause, remembering how miserable he'd been all week without him.

Neal's face was unreadable to him as he turned to the door. "Clock's ticking, Peter, we don't have time for this now. Montoya's waiting." And with that, Neal vanished.

Peter stood there immobile- absolutely terrified that he somehow just lost him.

_**TBC**_


	6. Ch 6: Staring Down the Barrel of a Gun

**Chapter 6: Staring Down the Barrel of a Gun**

The warehouse Monty and his crew occupied was dank, damp and uninhabitable. But the space itself provided privacy, with chained metal doors, windows sealed shut and isles of unused crates and barrels. It was a storage warehouse with nothing of value to Monty or Neal. It was a good neutral position to meet at on the marina. The air was stale from old dust and salt. Monty's heavily armed team patted him down twice just to gain entrance to the place. The guns were proudly displayed on the men, it unnerved him. Neal counted four men in the building, and two outside patrolling the warehouse.

When Neal was finally cleared through them, he walked inside and saw Monty sitting idly at a large state of the art conference table, with touchable computer capabilities and interactive software designed for mapping or creating. Neal smirked, impressed by Monty's savvy use of technology.

Monty glanced up from his screen and a slow smile spread across his handsome features. "I swear you get better looking the more I see you, darling." Monty strode up to Neal and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "and I can't wait to see all of you…later tonight." He whispered promisingly.

Neal felt his skin crawl at the thought of actually going through with his con and having sex with Monty. Sure, he was tall, dark and dreamy in a criminal kind of way. The perfect type of guy Neal would probably go for. He reminded Neal of an Anti-Peter. The natural, well-muscled form and physical prowess. Dark hair and hauntingly dark brown eyes, not like Peter's, his had a hint of gold- a goodness in them that Neal loved. Monty was just too criminal. He was a force of destruction and mayhem wherever he went. Monty did anything to get what he wanted, including murder.

Neal smiled silkily, "I can't wait to see what we're planning for the Lindermen job."

Monty chuckled, "All work and no play, Neal…"

"Make's me a broke man," Neal replied. "We have a deal. I get half of the take, in exchange…"

"Yes," Monty smiled, "I know."

"Good, then let's get started." Neal dazzled Monty with his smile as he said, "by the way- I want my hat back."

Monty just chuckled at him and led him to the table. Neal sat down comfortably at the table with Monty, knowing that their work would not come in vain, because once they stole whatever Monty was after, the feds would lock him up so tight, he wouldn't be able to pick his nose in private. Neal smirked at the idea, relying on the FBI to pull through this one.

Peter gave him a watch that they had used a few times before that had a GPS locator, except this sparkling new one had a transmitter-receiver set up for the FBI to get an ear-full of what Monty and his crew had planned. After today, the FBI would have enough information on Monty to intercept him at the location of the attempted theft. And just like that- Monty would be history.

Now all Neal had to do was help plan out the heist like he would with Moz or even Peter. Peter… Neal's mind wandered for just a moment. The brief interaction in the office was evident that Peter had feelings for him, he even broke it off with Elizabeth just to be fair to her, and yet- he couldn't admit to him. He couldn't just say that he cared.

He had to put distance between them. It killed him watching Peter do his superhero thing and not being able to participate in much of it. He loved being a part of Peter's thought process, watching him work out or solve a problem. He had a brilliant mind and that drew Neal to him when they first met.

After their night together, distance was critical for his survival. If he could get Peter to realize that what they have is rare and more than just 'great sex', they could be together. But after their discussion in his office today, Neal feared that there might never be more between them. Peter could only offer his body and mind, but not his heart. And that's what Neal wanted the most. Peter, whether he knew it or not, already had Neal's heart since the very beginning.

Two hours later the plan was almost complete when Monty got a phone call. He excused himself and answered. Neal watched him like a hawk. He didn't trust Monty. Monty whispered quietly over the cell phone, "Are you sure?-Fine, get back here soon." He closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Neal saw the slightest flash of rage cross Monty's face before he smoothed it out with a calm, smile.

"Neal…" Monty motioned for his heavily armed men to surround the table.

Neal heart clenched hard in his chest. Panic set in. "What's up, Monty?" he asked casually.

Monty frowned down at Neal, his mannerisms polite as he sat down across from him. "Apparently, you work with the FBI, darling."

Neal's throat closed involuntarily, his eyes scanning the handguns tucked safely away in the gun holsters that were only a breath away from being pulled out him. He knew Peter could hear everything that Monty was saying.

Monty pulled out his own silver, deadly handgun, with a pearl handle. He set it delicately on the table and aimed it at him. "I want you to think really hard before you decide what to tell me, Neal. If you lie…" he hesitated, clicking the gun in place, "I'll know."

His hands trembled, guns always made him uneasy. "All right, Monty- you win. I work for the FBI." Monty glared at him from across the table, the gun aimed at his heart. Peter would save him, Neal thought, holding tightly to that as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

"How much do they know?"  
>Everything, he thought. "Nothing. Only that I planned on meeting with you today. Your boys checked me- I don't have any wires or tracking devices. They trust me." Neal lied, letting his confidence take control of his sudden nerves. "I won't tell them about our heist. I planned on leading them astray anyway- telling them that we're going after something completely different."<p>

He pretended to be a desperate man, "I need the money on this, Monty." He pleaded to him with his eyes, "Once I get enough cash- I plan on unchaining myself from the FBI's leash." He smiled then, trying to regain the lost trust between them, "C'mon- Monty. You know me. I'm a good thief, trust that. Just don't shoot me over spilled milk. I never planned on telling the FBI anything."

The tension from Monty's silence lingered in the air between them. His stare unwavering. Finally Monty shook his head in disappointment. "I told you not to lie to me, Neal."

Neal let out a surprise gasp from the instant pain that punched through him. Monty had shot him. He never recalled being shot before and it pierced through his skin, branding him with the burn of a bullet. He was flung backwards from the impact. The chair clattered around him, pain shooting through his arm.

"Get what we need. We need to leave before the feds get here. Go!" Monty commanded and the shuffling of hurried feet ran past Neal. He could only lie there, bleeding and absolutely helpless, clutching his right arm. He glanced at the bleeding arm and realized that Monty shot him with a flesh wound, to make a deadly point. Neal breathed through clenched teeth, fighting the unbearable pain now racing through his arm.

Monty strode over to him, glaring at him in a furious rage. "I'm disappointed in you, Neal. You were such a great thief. But you threw it all away… for what?"

"Boss! We've gotta move!"

Monty didn't even look up from Neal, who was beginning to bleed slowly out on the hard warehouse floor. Monty raised his gun and aimed it at his heart, his eyes dead and cold as the ground Neal bled out on. "Good bye, Neal." The gun fired, recoiling in his hand and the impact of the second bullet entered into Neal's chest.

His pale blue eyes widened in terror, feeling the excruciating pain sear through his entire body. He gasped out, the metallic taste of blood filling his nose and mouth. Monty stepped over him callously, leaving him to die in the deserted warehouse, alone. This was how he was going to die, he thought blankly. He never thought he would die like this. Not being shot so cruelly.

He would die without ever getting to tell Peter the truth. He would never get to say good bye to him. Never get see his face again. Neal felt the burn of tears behind his eye lids, as he desperately gripped his hand over the bullet wound on his chest. Warm blood seeped through his fingers. "Peter…" he groaned out, "help…" His breathing began to feel labored. Everything felt distant. Nothing felt real as darkness began closing in on his mind.

Tears slid down his face as Neal realized that he missed his chance to tell Peter that he loved him. Neal tried fighting against the darkness overpowering him. It wasn't suppose to end like this, he raged. He kicked out, tensed his body and let out a desperate, strangled moan! But it consumed him. Neal slipped into unconsciousness as the darkness engulfed him in a welcoming embrace.

_**TBC**_


	7. Ch 7: As the World Falls Down

**Chapter 7: As the World Falls Down**

Blood drenched his hands. Peter sat paralyzed on the hospital bench outside the operating room. Nurses and doctors rushed past him, unnoticed. But he could only stare down at his hands, his mind utterly blank, filled only with fear. Absolute, pure terror. He breathed slowly, in and out. He attempted to find a calmness from the chaos inside himself.

Never had he felt so alone in his entire life, yet surrounded by people. Strangers.

Neal was only a few feet from him but it felt like miles. He was still in surgery. Peter felt cut off and closed out. He wasn't family- he had no right to enter or be by his side. He was just a coworker, a friend and now… something so much more. He couldn't be there with him. Peter couldn't take his hand in his, see that smiling face one last time, couldn't tell him the truth… Oh God, Peter thought, as a surge of emotion tore through his entire body. An overwhelming sense of loss struck him in the chest. The numbness that he had felt when he heard Neal had been shot, finally wore off. All Peter could do was sit with his bloodied hands pressed together in a silent prayer and wait.

_** A few hours earlier…**_

"Slow progress, so far boss. Neal and Montoya are just finishing the details of getting out of the building once they have…" Diana paused, "Wait- Montoya's getting a call."

Peter picked up his discarded headset. He had been crammed in a tin can all afternoon waiting for a sign of progress on Neal's end, but nada. Neal was doing fine. His usual showmanship and charming conman appeal always made getting the bad guy much easier for Peter and his team. Except today something felt off about this meeting. It was just a gut feeling to him, so he ignored it. Maybe it was because of Neal's rejection in his office today. How they had left so many things unsaid and maybe Peter should have said more- fought harder for him.

Peter immediately pushed down his wave of emotions and doubts. He had to focus on the job at hand, not on the past or future. Just this moment.

He pressed the headset tight against his ears, straining to hear. "Can't we do something about the volume?" he demanded.

Diana shook her head helplessly in response. Peter rolled his eyes but focused on the phone call, "Jones…" he said over his shoulder.

"Tracking the phone call now," Jones said immediately, hitting keys on his laptop. "Should have it any second..."

Peter heard Montoya's voice. He tried to ignore the sudden suspicion about this phone call. He heard the cell phone close shut.

"Neal…" Montoya's voice echoed off the transceiver to Peter in the van parked a few blocks away.

"What's up, Monty?" Neal responded casually.

Jones's voice interrupted Peter, "Sir, we have a location!"

"Wait!" Peter cut him off with a wave of his hand, annoyed.

Montoya's voice sounded cool and calm as he said, "Apparently, you work with the FBI, darling."

Peter's heart slammed against the wall of his chest.

"Sir!" Jones suddenly said, this time pulling out his gun. Peter's eyes moved to Jones's tense position, "the phone was traced to a few feet away from the van. Montoya knows…"

"We're here," Peter finished for him. They just burned Neal's cover inside. Fear gripped him around the throat, thinking of Neal's safety and his own team. He motioned for Jones and Diana to check the windows and get a visual on their spotter.

"How much to they know?" Montoya's voice demanded over the headset.  
>Everything, Peter thought, unhooking the safety strap on his gun holster.<p>

"Nothing." Neal responded, "only that I planned on meeting with you today. Your boys checked me- I don't have any wires or tracking devices. They trust me." Neal lied well and Peter could only hope Montoya bought into his story.

Diana made a visual on the two armed men outside the van.

Peter still listening through the headset, multitasking and preparing for a possible gun battle, when he heard Montoya's grim voice, "I told you not to lie to me, Neal."

In less than a second, Peter's whole world fell apart. He heard the gunshot over the headset. The sound of it echoed in his ears. Then he heard what could only be Neal's body being thrown backwards from the impact of the bullet. Peter desperately strained in, listening to the slightest bit of confirmation from Neal that he was still alive, still breathing. Anything!

"Sir, they have their guns aimed at the van!" Diana said, alarm crossing her face as she steadied her gun in her hand.

Peter radioed in for backup for Neal's location, shots fired and a man down. They already had backup around the corner, but they were pinned down at their current location. He couldn't get to Neal. Peter had to stay with the team. He heard the wail of sirens not far off in the distance. Then he heard Montoya order his men to clear out of the warehouse. Peter heard Montoya's men panic.

There was a long silence in the air. Peter could only sit there, helpless. Waiting for Neal… waiting for the bullets to riddle the side of the heavily armored FBI van.

Montoya's voice was cruel and hard, "Good bye, Neal." He heard everything. From the sound of the pin clicking in the gun to the explosive power of the bullet being fired from the pistol. He heard Neal's breath tear through him with the impact of that second bullet.

Peter's heart stopped beating when he heard the gun blast. Two gunshot wounds were now inflicted on Neal. The last one had been a kill shot- Peter knew it with every fiber of his being.

"Sir?" Diana's voice jolted Peter back to their current situation, "orders?"

Peter felt the over powering numbness take control. "Take them down," he ordered. Diana and Jones opened fire through the gun panels in the van, aiming at the men with A-K's pointed at them.

The gun battle was fierce, shots blasted out the sides, while the van itself was being pounded with bullets. Peter tightened his armored chest-vest. Diana ducked down low when one of the bullets struck near the gun panel she had been firing from. Jones also moved away, reloading a clip in the chamber of his gun. It only took moments for Peter to realize they were out matched and over powered by those weapons and backup was moving in on Montoya- not them.

Peter made a rash decision. Later, he would blame it on the numbness. The cold, dead feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought that Neal was dead. He would blame his bad judgment on temporary loss of sanity when he stepped out of the van, because his partner was dead. The man he spent a year with on the job, closing cases, saving lives had been ripped out of his life. His Neal… the man he spent the most glorious night of his life with, feeling wanted and loved… was dead. And Peter didn't protect him.

Blinded by this, Peter cocked his gun, getting a round in the chamber before glancing out the side panels of the van. He noted where the two men stood and took cover from behind crates near the warehouse. He burned their location in his brain.

He opened the rear van door, Jones yelled at him to stop. Diana screamed out in protest. But nothing could stop him. Peter felt the coldness thick in his veins. He wasn't afraid. He wouldn't hesitate to kill either. Death felt like a welcoming relief to the pain devouring his soul and tearing apart his heart.

He jumped from the van, landing gracefully on his feet. Peter used the opened door as temporary cover before stepping out and walking straight into the hail of gunfire now directed at him. Gun aimed high and arms firm, he shot twice at the first and closest shooter. Direct hit in the skull and neck, the man's head jerked back and he was down. The next shooter still fired madly at Peter. Without hesitation, without stopping his movement forward toward the line of fire, obliviously to the danger surrounding him, Peter found his target and fired. The second shooter was killed instantly.

Peter stood there, hands still locked in place, making sure the shooters were dead. Once he knew the area was secure he glanced back at their bullet riddled van. The tires had been blown out and Diana and Jones stepped out, unharmed and alive. He expected to feel relieved, but he didn't. He had to know- he had to see Neal for himself.

"I'm going to Neal," Peter began moving toward the direction of the warehouse around the corner from them. "Stay here- radio in." And without another word, he ran. He ran until his legs burned and his heart pounded, and then he ran some more.

He turned the corner to see a stand-off between Montoya and his men and the police, who were taking cover from their squad cars from the A-k machine guns being slammed into them.

Neal was still inside. Dead or dying. Peter reloaded his weapon, unseen by Montoya and his men from the side of the warehouse. He approached quickly and without second thoughts. He would not waste anymore time then he already had getting to this point. Besides, he wanted his shot at Montoya. There would be no police procedure, no arrest, no life sentence in prison. Peter was Montoya's new judge and he planned on serving justice with a bullet.

He slid against the side of the brick building, noticing that three of Montoya's men had already been killed, but he and his last man, fought from inside the cover of the building. The side door had been unlocked and Peter entered, not wanting to risk the chance of being shot by friendly fire.

Darkness became his ally as he crept inside, using the crates and warehouse environment as cover. He saw Montoya and his man at the entrance of the warehouse.

"Get the bloody car, you idiot!" Monty shouted enraged at his last man. "I'll hold them off!"

The man nodded obediently and ran toward the opposite side of the building to the car that must have been sitting in the alleyway outside. Leaving Monty all alone for Peter.

Shots rang out all around them, windows shattered and bullets thudded into brick exterior of the building. Peter raised his weapon and strode toward Montoya, staying out of the line of sight from the police outside. "Monty!" Peter yelled out over the A-K and the police gunfire.

Montoya frantically turned the weapon and fired at Peter. He dived and rolled behind a crate. Shards of wood flew around him. He stayed low to the ground, his heart racing but unafraid. "You're surrounded, Monty- just give it up!"

Montoya's hysterical laughter echoed in the chamber of the warehouse, "I'd rather eat a bullet then surrender."  
>"Where's Neal?" He shouted from his cover spot. He scanned the crates and found an opening where Montoya wouldn't see him until too late.<p>

"He's dead!" He said harshly, "I did what any self-respecting thief would do to a traitor. Kill'em."

Peter's rage boiled to the surface, "It's probably better then that you're not surrendering, Monty."

Peter finally walked into the opening and aimed his gun at him. Montoya straightened, holding firm to his stance against the brick wall, his A-K pointed at Peter's chest. They were only a few feet away now as they both stared at one another through the barrel of their guns. Monty smirked at him, "Oh- why is that, hero?"

Peter smiled coldly in return, "Because those cops will more than likely kill you anyway- once they find out you killed one of their own."

"Neal's not a cop. He's a traitor- there's a difference."

Peter shook his head, finger still and sure on the trigger. "No- he's not a traitor, he's a good man."

"What does it matter anyway?" Montoya asked, annoyed. "He's dead." His face conveyed his obvious pride, "And I don't miss," he said menacingly. Peter's world crumbled around him at the confirmation of Neal's death.

He felt like he was standing in the pit of Hell, with an eternity of misery waiting for him. Now he stared at the Devil himself, who mocked him and his pain. But Peter wouldn't give up without a fight, without vengeance for the man he lost and loved.

Peter didn't hesitate, "You just signed you're death warrant, Monty." His gun recoiled the moment he pulled the trigger. The blast was loud enough that it echoed through the rafters of the warehouse. Montoya's eyes widened in surprise that Peter actually shot him.

Montoya's face slackened, his A-K clattered to the floor and he slumped against the wall behind him. "You shot me…" he breathed out, still surprised by his fate.

Peter stared at him coldly, "I never planned on arresting you. You were dead the moment you shot Neal."

Montoya's dark eyes became distant and lost focus. His body slid lifelessly to the floor, blood seeping out of the hole in his chest. Peter quickly grabbed the radio from his hip and called in the all clear as he ran deeper inside the warehouse, searching for Neal. He repeated the call on the radio, "Man down, I have a man down!" Finally he came across the room where Montoya and Neal had been discussing the plans of their heist.

The room felt cold the moment he entered. It smelled of metallic blood and rust. His heart slowed to a stop when he saw Neal's body. His muscles began to tremble. It was fear, stark, raging fear that gripped him. Peter dropped to his hands and knees besides Neal, "Neal…" he breathed out. There was so much blood. Fingers trembling, he pressed a hand over Neal's chest wound, and called out for help on the radio.

"Please…" he begged to him, feeling the numbness suddenly uncoil in his belly. Neal's face was so white, his body so still and lifeless. He checked his pulse, it was barely beat. Tears burned behind his eyes but he refused to let them take control- not yet. He wouldn't give up hope. He couldn't.

"Stay with me, Neal…" Peter whispered, close to his face, pressing both hands tightly over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "You son of bitch, you better live. Or I swear to God, I'll…" he stopped, helpless and overcome with emotions. "Don't die," his voice was gruff, "I love you, damnit. You can't die on me now…"

Suddenly sirens wailed as an ambulance barreled through the warehouse doors. Peter turned and shouted out to the medics, still clutching onto Neal's body. In a blurry of rushed people and flashing lights, Neal was strapped to a stretcher and hauled off to the hospital with cop cars flanking the ambulance, in hopes of getting him to the hospital that much faster. Peter had been forced to stay behind by the police officers and his own agents with the bureau. He had to explain Montoya's demise and how it happened, along with the other two men he shot by the van.

After 30 minutes of obscene protocols and procedure, Peter had had enough. Diana slipped him her car keys and told him where Neal was at. He sneaked out the back and drove himself to the hospital.

Now Peter sat, two hours later, waiting for news on Neal. His hands still caked in dried blood. His heart weak, his body fatigued and his mind blank.

Suddenly he felt warm hands caress his shoulders. He turned blindly to see Elizabeth besides him. "I heard what happened, Jones called me." Her eyes were filled with so much compassion and love, that Peter finally felt that wall he'd been hiding behind crumble. But he held back from reaching towards her.

His voice was quiet and dull, "I didn't protect him, El." He looked down at the blood covering his hands, "He matters so much to me… more than anything else and I couldn't protect him."

Elizabeth reached out and clutched his hand, tears sliding down her beautiful face. "Stop blaming yourself, Peter." Her fingers linked through his, not caring about the blood or their ruined marriage. She didn't care. Peter loved Neal and she saw that now. "If you want to blame yourself, Peter- blame yourself for being the man Neal loves." Her gaze held his steadily, "He'll survive this. He's Neal Caffery- the invincible and lovable conman. I need you to believe that with me- he needs you to believe that for him too."

Tears blurred his eyes as he reached out and let Elizabeth's loving and supporting embrace consol him. Minutes later, Neal's surgeon appeared. His surgical cap had been soaked through from sweat and his apron stained with blood. Peter and Elizabeth both rose to greet him.

Elizabeth spoke first, "is he all right?"

The surgeon came forward to them with compassionate and kind eyes. "Neal Caffery suffered two bullet wounds, which caused severe blood loss. But the worst bullet was lodged near his spine."

"He's not…" Peter's knees instantly grew weak as Elizabeth reached out instinctively and steadied him with a strong hand.

"No- luckily it missed his spine by a few millimeters. We had to remove the bullet fragment and there weren't any complications." His voice was calm and smooth, "I believe Mr. Caffery is a fighter. He lost a lot of blood and will need time to recover. It's not every day I see this kind of strength to live in a person."

Peter eyed the door to Neal's room. The doctor noticed his anxiousness. "He needs rest, Agent Burke. He's been heavily sedated. His wounds are extensive and delicate at this stage. Give him a few days and let his body heal." His eyes returned to the gentleness that he greeted them with, "Though I doubt I can tell you that you can't sit with him, seeing as how you are the FBI. But I believe it will only help his recovery to have his friends nearby." And with that, the doctor left Peter and Elizabeth, standing in front of Neal's door.

_**TBC**_


	8. Ch 8: Heart Beep

**Chapter 8: Heart Beep**

A slow, rhythmic beep sounded above Neal. It was oddly soothing in an annoying kind of way. His eye lids felt weighted as he tried to lift them. But nothing happened. A warm tingling sensation ran up his spine, with a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain. He didn't move or try to open his eyes again, it didn't seem all that important at the moment.

Suddenly he felt a familiar, calloused hand close over his, affectionate and gentle. Neal knew that touch. He groaned weakly, wanting so badly to open his eyes, to reach out and see his Peter. But the whimper died low in his throat.

"Just rest, Neal. I'm here, don't worry…" Peter's voice sounded distant and far off, yet filled with so much pain. "I won't leave you. I promise."

Neal felt comforted instantly at Peter's warm hand and reassurances as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Sunlight warmed his face. Neal opened his eyes this time. He felt disoriented. His eyes first gazed upon the window with sunlight spilling in over the hospital room and bed. Neal's heavy eyes wandered over to the beeping machines surrounding him. He noticed the IV connected to his hand and suddenly felt the breathing hose filtering in his nostrils. He sucked in a breath of clean oxygen.

His head rolled to the sound of whispers. He recognized those voices. Elizabeth and June were sitting around a small table across the room, sipping coffee and speaking in hushed tones. Neal's confusion and disorientation briefly fled as he smiled at the two ladies. He tried to say hi, but his voice cracked heavily and only a whimper like moan escaped his chapped lips.

June and Elizabeth turned at the sound and both were up on their feet, rushing to his side.

"Neal! You're awake!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily.

"I'll get the doctor," June said, hurrying off to hunt down the doctor.

Neal stared up at her beautifully kind face, wondering what she was doing in his room. Why he was here and what the hell was going on. A soft, understanding entered her eyes before he could express his concerns.

"You were shot a few days ago." She explained, "Peter said that Montoya shot you."

A sudden flurry of memories sparked to life in his mind. He remembered vividly the dark warehouse filled with old crates and a group of heavily armed men. He remembered Monty. He also remembered the pearl handled gun that Monty aimed directly at him. Neal instantly became flooded with unbearable pain. He winced, his head jerking back from the flashback. Elizabeth rubbed his arm, "You're okay, Neal. You're alive." She smiled lightly, her eyes welling up with tears, "for a while there- we thought we lost you."

Neal stared at her, watching her cry over him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it all. How it had happened so fast. One minute he was discussing the Lindermen heist, the next Monty was standing over his body with a gun in his hand. Oh God, he thought- Peter! Peter must have heard everything over the transmitter! Everything from Monty saying good-bye to the final shot. He must have thought he was dead.

Panic seized him as Neal choked out, "Peter!" The heart monitor besides his bed jumped. Pain suddenly shot through his right arm when he tried to reach out toward Elizabeth. She grabbed him, holding his arm down from jarring it.

"He's fine!" She gripped his hand . "Try not to move your right arm. The doctor said it was just a graze but it's still tender."

Neal remembered the first bullet, anger spilled into his gut. He had been furious that Monty actually shot him. He had never been shot before. It hurt like a son of a bitch and Monty's smug face was a reminder of that bullet. Neal clenched his teeth, "Monty…"

Elizabeth's voice was quiet and calm when she said, "Peter took care of him." The tears suddenly dried up in her eyes, "when he found out you were shot and possibly…" she hesitated, unsure of what to tell Neal. He could only lie there, pleading to her with his bright blue eyes to tell him what happened. "Peter… well, he lost it."

Neal sucked in a breath. He could only image what Peter had experienced. Not knowing if he had been dead or alive that whole time.

"He almost got himself killed from what Diana told me." Elizabeth shook her head and let the tears flow freely now. "He thought he lost you… that it was his fault he couldn't protect you."

Neal felt the tears burn behind his eyes. Oh, Peter, he thought, his hand gripping hers. His throat clenched tightly. "Where is he?"

"We sent him home to change and rest for a few hours. He's been here 24-7. I'm sure if he could've hand-cuffed himself to your bed, he would've. So don't blame Peter for not being here, because he would've never left if not for our insistence."

Neal nodded, knowing that Peter had been here. He hazily remembered Peter holding his hand, being with him… Suddenly a sharp spike of pain shot through his back and up his neck. He cringed.

"Neal!" Elizabeth cried out.

June had brought the doctor back just in time. It was the same surgeon who had operated on him. The older doctor rushed inside. He checked his vitals as the pain subsided and Neal was able to breathe normally again.

The doctor's kind face stared down at him, "Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Caffery."

Neal sucked in another breath, "how bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it feels, I'm sure." The doctor glanced at the beeping machines, "You're going to be in pain for a little while, until your body can heal itself. The medication is for your pain. If it becomes too intense just push this button here," he motioned to the small button hooked onto Neal's IV. "I'd like to keep you here under observation for a few weeks. After that- you're a free man." He paused, then his face broke out in a smile, "Well, from what I understand of your situation- you'll be free from the hospital but not from the custody of the FBI."  
>Neal would have laughed if not for the pain still causing havoc on his system. The doctor patted his hand, "if you have any questions or concerns, my name is Dr. Daniels." He left the room, giving June and Elizabeth some time with him.<p>

Neal enjoyed having them there. He was glad to have Elizabeth's company and support, it kept his mind off the pain. If she were still angry that Peter left her for him, Neal couldn't tell. She didn't seem to mind that Neal and Peter were together. Neal sighed at the thought because he wondered if they really were together as he had hoped. Sudden doubt and regret gnawed away at Neal's insides the rest of the time Elizabeth and June stayed.

He knew Mozie might not visit him because his aversion to hospitals in general, but he knew his friend would be there if he could. After an hour, Neal began to drift and his ladies left him to sleep. He woke a short time later, with his body feeling rested but still uncomfortable from the pain in his chest and back.

He glanced to his bedside table for some water when he noticed the sleeping FBI agent in one of the armchairs next to his bed. Peter's head had fallen to the side and was resting awkwardly. Neal knew he would have a stiff neck once he woke up. In the meantime, he studied him.

He wore clean clothes, a long-sleeved navy shirt with dark jeans. He looked just as handsome in regular clothes then his work suits. His short brown hair was a neat mess and his body seemed relaxed. Except his face. Neal could see the dark circles under his eyes and his face appeared older, as if he were under a tremendous amount of stress.

Neal sighed heavily. Peter looked worn out and it was all because of him, he thought. He was careless with Monty and got shot and almost killed because of it. He didn't know how Monty knew he had been working with the FBI. It didn't matter, though. He should have been more convincing… instead he got shot, twice.

Elizabeth never told him what Peter had done when he thought Neal had died but it must have been bad. His body trembled at the thought of being in Peter's role and believing he had been killed. Neal couldn't bear the thought. Suddenly Peter's breath came out in a short huff and his neck jerked upwards. Peter flinched and gripped the back of his neck, rolling the tender muscles under his hand.

"Peter…" Neal whispered out.

Peter's dark, golden eyes flickered over to Neal. He was on his feet instantly and at his bedside, grasping his hand for dear life. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, realizing at in this moment he would never forget the look of relief on Peter's face. As if he had just been saved from spending an eternity in Hell.

Neal reached out with his uninjured hand, wrapped it around the back of Peter's neck and brought his lips down to meet his. He needed him now more than ever before. The kiss wasn't tender or hard- it was desperate and loving. Neal's heart broke from the intensity of Peter's kiss, the way his lips moved over his and pressed down, insistent and fierce.

Peter drew back, eyes filled with unshed tears. Neal had never seen Peter cry before. Neal didn't even realize he had started crying until Peter stroked the wetness from his face. "I'm sorry," Peter whispered in an emotionally gruff voice.

Neal caressed the hand on his face, "for what?"

"Not protecting you."

"Peter- you couldn't have known…."

He cut him off, "No- the van blew your cover on the inside. I shouldn't have been so damn careless. It was my fault. I was the one who almost got you killed."

"Stop it," Neal demanded. "You didn't shoot me, Montoya did."

"I might as well have," Peter grumbled ashamed.

Neal's hand fisted hard onto Peter's neck, using what little strength he had left to make him understand the truth. "You didn't do anything wrong! You saved me- I'm not dead now because you came for me."

Those proud, golden brown eyes began to cry and Peter's body crumbled into the chair besides the bed. Neal took Peter's hand, "I don't care what you did, or think you didn't do. All that matters is that we're both alive."

Neal might have been the one stuck in the hospital bed, injured and scared, but Peter needed to be taken care of at that moment. Finally Peter met his eyes, "I should've fought harder for you."

Neal stared blankly at him. Peter continued, "Not at the warehouse. But back in my office. The last time we talked."

Neal felt his heart begin to race. "I remember…"

Peter seemed to find his own inner strength as he left the chair and moved to sit on Neal's bed. He stared down at him, his face tense. "I should've told you the truth- except I was too stupid to see it then."

Neal suddenly couldn't breathe, knowing- hoping that Peter would say what Neal had been feeling for months now. Peter leaned down and kissed his forehead intimately. He brushed his lips over the side of his cheek until finally uttering the words Neal had been longing to hear. "I love you," Peter whispered, their eyes locked before he kissed him with all the love they both felt for one another.

Neal smiled against their pressed lips. It didn't matter that he was in a hospital bed, or that he came so close to dying. All that was important now was Peter.

"I love you too, Peter." Neal said out loud, smiling up at him. As they continued to kiss, Neal's heart monitor began beeping wildly.

Peter broke away from their kiss to glance over at the machine, he suddenly smiled. "I should've thought about hooking you up to one of these things before…"

Neal's eyes narrowed, confused and suspicious.

Peter chuckled, "I could've caught you in a lie just by the beep of your heart."

Neal couldn't help but laugh as they kissed again, tenderly. Peter pulled back, stroking the side of Neal's face and then glancing down at his chest where the bullet wound was still healing. He placed a warm, gentle hand over the wound close to his heart. Many feelings seemed to flicker over Peter's face, regret, anger, shame, guilt. Neal captured Peter's hand, moving it over his beating heart.

Peter and Neal held each other the rest of the night, content to be in each other's arms. The hard groves over Peter's face relaxed. His breathing became slow and steady as he drifted into a deep sleep. Neal had the distinct feeling that this would be a restful night for Peter.

_**TBC**_

* * *

><p><strong>Plz, plz comment! Thanks for reading! Only one more chapter left! ^_^<strong>


	9. Ch 9: New Beginnings

**Chapter 9: New Beginnings**

Peter winced when Neal opened the bottle of wine on his own with his bad arm. "Neal- the doctor said not to push it…"

"I got it!" Neal shot back with an angry gaze, "I know perfectly well what the doctor said. I practically lived with Dr. Daniels for the past three weeks!"

Peter held back his sudden urge to laugh because he knew it was true. Dr. Daniels grew fond of Neal after he began healing. He checked up on Neal often and they even played a round of chess. Mozzi had finally gave into his absurd fear of hospitals and brought Neal the board game and played a few times with him while Peter was at work.

Work had been grueling. Never had he felt more distracted then when he was at work. He kept thinking about Neal. He missed him the most there- of all places. His job just didn't feel the same without Neal's quirky remarks or brilliant mind around. Neal had become so much a part of Peter's everyday life that without him, he felt lost. Peter rubbed the back of his neck, occasionally thinking about how he almost lost the most important person in his life.

An investigation was started into Peter's actions that day and the whole operation itself was coming into question by the bureau. The only thing Peter had going for him was his incorruptible and good reputation with the white collar division and his outstanding team, Diana and Jones- of course Neal too, but the bureau overlooked Neal Caffery because of his criminal background.

Neal had been furious when he found out the FBI was investigating him. He said the bureau had more trust problems then Mozzi. Peter laughed at the thought. Neal shot him a dangerous look again, "well, you could help me out!"

Peter didn't even bother trying to explain that he wasn't laughing at him. Instead he walked over to the kitchen where Neal had been cooking his famous pasta dish. He had been on his feet all day today and Peter could tell that Neal was getting tired and cranky. "What do you need me to do?"

"Stir- while I chop."

"How'bout I chop and you stir." Peter suggested, then out-maneuvered Neal and placed him in front of the boiling pot of noodles.

Neal didn't argue and began stirring. It had been only two days since Neal's return home. Peter had been with him most of the time in the hospital while he was there. When Neal returned to his apartment, he suggested that Peter stay with him instead of the hotel. Peter tried not to over think the idea of living with Neal, even when he quickly tried to explain that it would only be temporary until Peter found a place of his own. Neal blushed and busied himself with re-wrapping his bandage on his forearm. Peter didn't admit to Neal how much he liked the idea of living with him so he just brought his bags over from the hotel and had been living there since.

Tonight had been the first night since Neal actually felt capable of doing anything. The first few nights when Peter came home from work, Neal had been asleep or had taken a pain pill after dinner and went to bed. So it was a pleasant surprise to see him up and about, cooking even.

Peter finished chopping the chicken into bite sizes when Neal switched off the stove.

"How's the investigation going?" Neal asked, dumping the scolding water into the sink, the noodles plopping into the strainer.

"All right… for now." He hesitated, before adding, "Jones and Diana have been supportive."

"I wish I could be there," Neal mumbled. "I'm actually missing it." He sounded surprised at his own words, making Peter laugh.

"You're just restless, Neal. I'm sure working with the FBI now seems like a good distraction, especially since you're stuck here all day- bored." He said teasingly.

Neal's eyebrow lifted, "Right. How could _I_ possibly miss the white collar division?" his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Am I hearing that correctly?" he turned, pretending to be astounded, "Neal Caffery is actually admitting he liked working for the very division that caught him?"

"Fine- yes, I'll admit it, jerk." He muttered, dumping the noodles back into the pot before adding the sauce.

"I knew you would," Peter said, poking at Neal's pride now.

"You know, if you keep this up, I won't let you get any of my dessert." Neal threatened.

Peter eyed the refrigerator, wondering what else Neal had made for tonight. "What dessert?"

Neal smiled, "you'll only get some if you play nice."

He shrugged, "All right…" They finished up the pasta and cooked the vegetables. Peter couldn't help but tease Neal since he couldn't do as much as he wanted, like picking up the heavy pot full of pasta or bending over to set the table. In the end Neal sat down grudgingly at the table while Peter arranged everything.

"I wanted this to be a little more romantic. Somehow I ended up being the one feeling pampered." Neal muttered, sipping his glass of wine.

"You didn't take any pain killers tonight, did you?" Peter asked, eyeballing the glass of wine.

Neal shook his head, "No. I wanted to be alert and awake tonight."

A slow smile spread over Peter's face. His heart skipped a beat. It had been nearly a whole month since they first made love. Neal had been too weak to do much and it frustrated them both. But they knew Neal's health came before they could. Now, tonight, Peter knew Neal was feeling 'up' to it.

He tried not to eat too fast, but he couldn't help it. He was so excited and anxious to taste Neal again, to feel his body against his own, naked and hungry for one another. Sharing a bed with no sex was different then sharing a bed while having sex. Neal seemed just as anxious and finished quickly.

After the meal was finished, Peter hurriedly cleaned the table. Neal sat, slowly drinking his wine, watching as Peter rushed around the apartment. Finally after a few minutes, Neal burst out in hysterical laughter. "You're in quite a hurry, Peter."

Peter gave him a boyish smile, "I won't be in a minute," he said promisingly.

Neal laughed again, "I feel like I've been depriving you."

"That- you couldn't help," Peter replied, washing his empty wine glass.

"I know…" Neal hesitated, his eyes darkened towards him, "trust me, it hasn't been easy just lying there at night with you so close."

Peter's heart began thudding in his chest, as Neal continued, "I love feeling you close at night and I love it even more waking up in the morning with you besides me." His blue eyes shone with a cloudy, passionate heat. "I've wanted to wake you up with my mouth every morning since you've been sleeping with me."

Peter gulped. He had woke this morning with a warm kiss on the cheek before Neal got up and took a shower. Neal had a towering erection as he walked naked to the bathroom. Peter knew it took a lot of restraint for Neal to walk away. It also took a lot of control on Peter's part to not walk into the shower and relieve Neal. But he didn't want to push their luck with Neal's wounds. He didn't know how long to wait and just hold off. So he promised himself that he wouldn't make the first move until Neal was absolutely ready. Now Neal seemed more than ready for a good romp in the sack.

Hands trembling at the thought of Neal's naked flesh pressed against him, Peter walked over to Neal, who was still sitting at the table. Peter pulled out his chair and stood in front of him, already hard, his erection straining against the fly of his jeans. Neal set down his wine glass, looked up at Peter and reached out to touch him. He ran his hands down the length of his stomach, making his belly quiver and breathing come out short. Neal's perfect hands slowed down to the top of his jeans and began unbuttoning him.

The sound of the zipper sound thunderous as it slid down the length of him, revealing his thickness to Neal. Instead of feeling Neal's hands caress his cock, he felt those hands grasp his butt and press his fingers into his cheeks, making his arousal tingle and his body shiver. Foreplay had never been Peter's forte, but with Neal- he loved it. It reminded him of their partnership these past few months, before he knew of Neal's feelings for him. The whole time they interacted and bantered back and forth… it had been a sexual foreplay. Peter hadn't even been aware of until he caught Neal masturbating. They had been verbally screwing each other for a long time and now, after all this time he got to finally taste that snarky mouth where it all started.

Neal's hands pressed down at the top of his pelvis, making him instinctively pump his hips forward. He let out an inaudible gasp when Neal pushed down his jeans and boxers, his cock now free, hot and hard. Neal licked his lips, glanced up one last time at Peter before taking him in the mouth. A loud groan erupted from the back of Peter's throat. He let Neal suck him and taste him, trying not to pound down his throat. His butt cheeks clenched, holding back from spilling so soon. Instead he grabbed the back of Neal's neck and lifted him off his cock and out of the chair.

"I want to taste you tonight," Peter said, as he crushed his mouth onto Neal's parted lips. Tasting wine and hot sex in his mouth. Neal moaned and sucked Peter's tongue. Peter pulled back and took Neal's hand, leading him to their bed.

The bed had already been turned down. Neal planned ahead, Peter thought, smiling. He slowly stripped Neal out of his shirt and pants, while pulling off his own shirt. Neal laid out before him, on his back, his long, thick erection ready to be taken. Neal looked so damn beautiful spread out before him. Peter couldn't help but marvel over the man.

"What?" Neal asked noticing Peter's hesitation.

"I was just thinking how beautiful you are…" Peter said. A small blush tinted Neal's face. Peter felt overwhelmed with love in that moment as he climbed onto the foot of the bed and straddled him. Neal let out a strangled moan as Peter dominated him, setting the pace and dictating the motions of their love making. Their cocks touched briefly before Peter began to rock and rotate his hips. Neal gasped out. Peter increased the pace, their cocks rubbing up against one another creating the most wonderful friction and tension in their straining arousals.

Finally Peter pulled off and moved in-between Neal's legs and took his shaft into his mouth. Using his hands to fondle and cup the balls, he began pumping and sucking. Neal bit down hard on his lower lip, hips moving restlessly against the feel of Peter's hot mouth. He slid his hands down to grip the base of Neal's cock and twisted the flesh underneath his hands. Neal cried out in utter pleasure, his hips now demanding in Peter's mouth as he continuously sucked and pumped. His head bobbed and throat opened to take more of him. After several minutes of this, Neal's body began to tense, his hands grabbing desperately to the sheets and one hand even gripped Peter's hair hard, adding more tension to Peter's own cock.

Suddenly Neal bucked and erupted into his mouth. He swallowed and suckled him. Neal groaned in agony as Peter continued to suck, his lips surrounding the tip of his dick, lapping up his seed with his tongue. Neal's breath was short and choppy as his cock drained itself completely. Peter's dark eyes focused on Neal's flushed face.

"More?" He asked, feeling his demanding cock growing stiffer at the sight of Neal's submissive and weak state.

Neal nodded slowly, his eye lids barely opened as Peter leaned over him and kissed him. The kiss was urgent and demanding. He needed release that only Neal could provide. He lifted Neal's hips and slid himself underneath him, feeling his hot body slide and touch against his own. His dick felt thick as he grabbed the lube stashed in the bedside table. Neal finally seemed to awaken as he grabbed the lube out of Peter's hand and lathered it on him, stroking and caressing his shaft. Peter's head fell backwards, eyes closed, hips already bucking.  
>Neal got to his knees in front of Peter and licked his nipple, his hand slipping over him, back and forth. Peter felt his kiss on his collarbone and reach to his neck. "Make love to me, Peter." He whispered into the shell of his earlobe and bit down teasingly.<p>

That was all it took as Peter flipped Neal over, cock slick with lube and his own tip wet with pre-cum. "Are you sure?" he asked with a gruff voice.

"Yes… Peter, please," he whispered, breathless. Peter entered him instantly. "Peter!" Neal cried out, groaning and slamming his hips down onto Peter's dick.

Peter almost came the moment he entered. With only a few shallow thrusts he felt the building of his orgasm. He clenched his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead as he pumped his hips and buried his cock deep within Neal. He reached around and gripped Neal's new towering erection in his hands. Neal's body trembled as he began pulling and pounding, mimicking the feel of Neal fucking Peter.

Neal cried out his name, his hips jerking back and forth at the movement of his hand and cock slamming into his backside. Peter gasped out, standing on the edge, stilling his hips and hand. Neal whimpered and pleaded with him to continue. Peter did, and with two hard, violent thrusts, he burst inside him. Neal cried out, collapsing with his own orgasm tearing through his body. Peter rolled away before falling on top of Neal's back.

Neal turned to his good side, reaching out and taking Peter into his arms. He buried his face into the crook of his neck and kissed him beneath his chin.

"Damn…" Peter murmured, "I didn't mean to do that so hard, Neal…"

He felt Neal's smile against his damp skin. "You better do that every time," he said with laughter in his voice. "I liked it a lot," he snuggled closer, their bodies and legs tangling. Neal wrapped his leg over Peter's hip. "God- you felt so perfect."

Peter let his face turn in Neal's messy black hair, inhaling the sweet scent of soap and sex.

"I love you," Neal whispered, his hand stroking his backside.

Peter sighed, feeling his cock stir to life again, "Keep that up and I'll show you how much I love you too, babe."

Neal's eyes were full of mischief, "yeah?" He buckled his pelvis hard and demandingly against Peter.

"Damnit… Neal. I don't want to risk hurting you." Peter said, though he was already reaching down between them and stroking him.

Neal's whole body sighed in relief. His erection grew in his calloused hands. "A little risk can be fun."

Peter's hand stilled, his eyes grew serious. "Not when it comes to you."

Neal's gaze locked to his, he shivered at the intensity Peter conveyed with just one look. "I'm fine, Peter. I promise."

Peter's still didn't move, "Now that I have you, Neal. I can't lose you."

Neal's heart slammed against his chest, eyes widened in shock. "You won't," he reassured, "I'm here to stay."

Peter leaned down and let his lips capture his. He pulled away, his eyes light with playfulness, "You know- I'll find you if you leave, right?"

Neal ran a hand through Peter's thick brown hair, smiling. "Good thing I don't plan on escaping from you're custody- ever, Agent Burke."

They both laughed and sealed their fate with another kiss.

_**The End**_

* * *

><p><strong>**I hope you enjoyed my version of a love story between Neal &amp; Peter. I didn't know I would end up writing more to this story or it would evolve the way it did! But I absolutely loved writing it &amp; receiving such positive feedback. Thanks again to all the White Collar fans who love the show &amp; the slash!**<strong>

**~kidneythieves **


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